


Lick

by GoldenTruth813



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Boys Kissing, Established Relationship, Explicit Sexual Content, Fluff and Smut, Frottage, Kink Exploration, M/M, Praise Kink, Semi-Public Sex, Teasing, goth/jock au, or maybe Keith just has a Shiro kink, salacious ice cream eating
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-30
Updated: 2019-07-30
Packaged: 2020-07-27 05:02:24
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,946
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20040346
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GoldenTruth813/pseuds/GoldenTruth813
Summary: Ice cream makes Keith thirsty. Or at least it does if Shiro is the one eating it.





	Lick

**Author's Note:**

> This was a collab with effitsfranki for SheithinSummer for the prompt Ice Cream using her incredible goth/jock au. You can see her art for this fic [here](https://twitter.com/effitsfranki/status/1156293317681975297) !
> 
> All the love and thanks to whiskyandwildflowers for the super fast beta and support on this fic.

Takashi Shirogane was the hottest man alive.

It was a fact Keith was well-acquainted with. He’d spent the last year or so doing nothing but appreciating how attractive Shiro was. And kind, and funny and smart and talented and selfless. Oh, and really, really fucking hot.

Keith could still recall the first night he’d seen him at the bar downtown when Lance had dragged him there for his twenty-first birthday with the sole intent of flirting with Allura. Keith had gone along because it was Lance’s birthday and that’s what friends did. The last thing he had expected was to see a man behind the bar with arms as big around as Keith’s head and the world’s most beautiful smile. Keith’s palms had gone clammy and his heart raced. He’d been gone from the moment the bartender had slid a beer across the counter with a wink. Two weeks later, he’d come back without Lance and never looked back. They’d become friends first, and as Keith had gotten to know Shiro, he’d come to admire him for more than just his looks. Despite Shiro’s sometimes hard appearance, he was as soft as a marshmallow. At least for the people he considered his friends. It’d taken Keith a long time to realize that somewhere along the line, he was included in that. 

So yeah, Keith shouldn’t really be surprised at how hot Shiro was—about the way he made Keith’s body flush and his face hot and his stomach flip. Especially since all he was doing was eating ice cream. An innocent, plain ice cream cone. Well, plain was probably an understatement since Shiro had a sweet tooth to rival Santa Claus. The cone he’d made Keith had been a simple single scoop of vanilla on a sugar cone. Plain and normal size. Shiro had somehow got three scoops of ice cream on his own tiny sugar cone, including chocolate sprinkles on top, and even a squirt of the canned whipped cream that Shiro kept hidden in his fridge behind at least five different flavors of coffee creamer, and which he usually pretended not to eat straight out of the can when he thought no one was looking.

Except it wasn’t the size of Shiro’s cone that had Keith gaping. It wasn’t even the revolting combination of flavors Shiro had indulged in—hazelnut mocha, mint chocolate chip and pistachio. No, the thing making Keith feel like he might have an aneurysm was the way Shiro was eating his cone. If you could even call it eating. As far as Keith was concerned, what Shiro was doing was closer to pornography than snack time.

Shiro was down to his last scoop. His last fucking scoop. That should’ve been a good thing. But no. It was bad. Really bad. Because it meant Shiro had been eating his cone long enough that there was a bit of ice cream on the corners of his lips which were glistening and sticky sweet, and the rest of his last scoop kept dripping down the side of his cone. This didn’t seem to be a problem for Shiro, who slurped and sucked and licked at it as if it was the most delicious thing he’d ever tasted in his life and also as if it were priceless and he were terrified of losing a single drop. He was determined and single-minded as his long, skilled tongue slid up the side of the cone.

Keith barely suppressed his groan when the metal ball of Shiro’s tongue ring dragged up the rippled side of his cone. His mind flashed with images of Shiro a few days before and how his skillful tongue had dragged up the edge of something completely different. He squeezed his legs shut, willing his stupid one-track minded dick to stop getting ahead of itself. This proved to be useless when a few seconds later, Shiro let out a soft little groan of pleasure, the kind of noise that he usually only made when he or Keith were naked. He barely had time to recover when Shiro made the noise again. Keith nearly crushed his ice cream cone. _Obscene_. Shiro eating ice cream was absolutely fucking obscene. 

The worst part, at least for Keith, was the fact that Shiro had no idea at all what he was doing right now. For all Shiro liked to tease Keith, and fuck did he tease sometimes, he was almost often blissfully unaware of the effect he had on Keith. Despite being built like a brick house with a smile that was beautiful enough to light the night sky, he was somehow humble about how breathtakingly gorgeous and perfect he was. 

“Good, huh?” Shiro said with a smile, apparently unaware of Keith’s internal dilemma. 

Keith nodded, his tongue thick and heavy in his mouth and his brain too stupid to form words. His own cone was practically forgotten in his right hand, which was covered in melted ice cream since he’d been too distracted to eat.

Shiro looked so genuinely happy sitting there his tank top and shorts with his feet in a stupid bright blue plastic kids pool covered in little fish, as if he were exactly where he wanted to be. As if being stuck on his patio instead on the beach was just as good as long as he was with Keith.

It made Keith’s heart do this uncomfortable fluttering thing it’d been doing every time he was around Shiro lately—the thing that made his clothes feel too small and his heart too big. The thing that made him absolutely and unequivocally sure that he was falling in love with Shiro. No, that wasn’t right. He wasn’t falling in love. He was already in love. Fuck, he loved him. He loved him so fucking much it terrified him. Keith had never met another person like Shiro, and after a year of being friends and pining his heart away, positive that he could never have more and then half a year of dating, Keith had never been happier. Shiro was beautiful inside and out. He was everything Keith could ever want. He was fucking everything.

He was also so fucking hot Keith was two seconds away from throwing his cone onto the floor and dropping to his knees. He wanted something in his mouth now and it sure as hell wasn’t ice cream.

“This is nice,” Shiro observed, almost as if he were talking more to himself than to Keith. He continued to lap at the side of his cone, humming to himself as he caught a large drip of ice cream just before it hit his hand which was curled around the cone and dwarfing it. God Shiro had huge fucking hands. 

“Yeah,” Keith agreed. “Nice.”

And it was nice. Really nice. But it was no weekend getaway at whatever five-star hotel Shiro had probably booked. He was so good to Keith, constantly giving him more than he deserved. Fuck. One day Keith wanted to have enough money to take Shiro somewhere nice and spoil him the way he deserved too. For now though, the best Keith could offer was the four gallons of ice cream which had been on sale buy two get two free at Safeway and the store brand sugar cones he’d brought over. He’d meant it to be a peace offering, even though he’d known deep down that Shiro would never be mad at him for ruining their plans. Shiro knew how much football meant to Keith and that this close to the end of the season, it had to take priority over everything. Even over the prospect of an entire weekend of fucking and being fucked by his hot older boyfriend or lazing in the summer sun getting a sunburn and sand in his ass. 

The ice cream hadn’t seemed like enough to _say sorry for ruining our weekend_, but the heat wave was oppressive, and Keith knew how much Shiro liked ice cream so it’d been the best he could so. He hadn’t expected Shiro to smile so big his eyes crinkled up at the corners though, or pull Keith into a crushing hug and thank him. Sometimes Keith could hardly believe how goddamn easy to please Shiro was. He’d wanted to take Keith away for the weekend to celebrate their six-month anniversary, but Keith’s coach had called some last-minute practices that Keith absolutely couldn’t miss. Which meant that two days before they would have left, Keith was forced to cancel. Shiro had sounded disappointed on the phone when Keith called to tell him the bad news, but as always he’d been understanding and sweet. 

Keith had been racked with guilt about ruining Shiro’s plans. Shiro worked so hard and though he knew Shiro absolutely loved his job, he also knew the hours were long and the clients often difficult. Getting an entire weekend free just so he could take Keith somewhere special must’ve been difficult even if Shiro would never admit it. He’d insisted he understood when Keith spent two days partaking in long, grueling practices that left him too exhausted to do more than fall asleep in his dorm room in the middle of a Facetime call with Shiro, too tired to even drive across town to see him.

When Keith had shown up earlier that evening clutching a plastic bag of ice cream and determined to find a way to make it up to Shiro, the last thing he’d expected was Shiro to have found a way to still try and make the day special for _Keith_. Instead of being put out or angry about missing their chance to get away for the weekend and celebrate, Shiro had apparently spent his entire day turning his small balcony into a vacation oasis. The sleek black outdoor furniture was still there, but each chair was covered by a brightly-colored beach towel, the ledge of the balcony was decorated with a long row of candles, and there were even several plastic flamingos poking out of Shiro’s favorite potted plants. That wasn’t all though. He’d put up a bright rainbow beach umbrella and hung a string of lights with beach balls on it, and the floor, which was made of concrete, was covered in several rattan beach mats. There was a foam cooler in the corner with ice and soda, and Shiro had somehow managed to get a children’s pool up there. The mental image of Shiro loaded down all this stuff and making his way through the pristine hallways and up the elevator to his high rise apartment was something Keith wished he’d seen for himself. Shiro’s normally minimalist outdoor living space looked as if Party City had thrown up in it. It was as ridiculous looking as it was endearing.

Though nothing was more endearing than the way Shiro occasionally splashed his toes in the water as he slurped at his ice cream. He was like an overgrown child, and Keith longed to one day see him splashing around in the ocean. He bet Shiro was the kind of person who liked to build sand castles and put seashells in his pockets. One day he wanted to find out. 

For now, all he knew was that Shiro was having way too much fun with his feet in the pool as he devoured his cone. 

Keith was vaguely aware of thick drops of his own ice cream dripping onto his hand, but his brain apparently could not make his body do anything but stare stupidly at Shiro. Shiro, whose tongue was gliding up the side of his sugar cone. The ball of his tongue ring was barely visible as he pressed his tongue against it firmly and tilted his head to the side, ensuring that not a single drip of ice cream escaped him. He was methodical and careful, and it reminded Keith of the way Shiro gave blow jobs. Shiro was so fucking talented with that pretty mouth of his— those full lips and strong tongue. When he gave something his attention, he devoted himself to it entirely—a fact Keith was acquainted with intimately.

Unfortunately, at the moment Shiro’s attentions we’re not on Keith but on his cone, a cone which he was looking at the same way he usually looked at Keith. He exhaled slowly when he realized he was clenching his jaw, forcing himself to relax. Thank fuck Shiro couldn’t read minds since realizing he was just maybe a little bit jealous of a fucking ice cream cone was one of the more embarrassing moments of Keith’s life. Then again, Keith would’ve dared anyone in his position not to wish they were the one being licked and sucked. 

It was a miracle Keith didn’t come in his shorts just from watching Shiro basically fellate his fucking cone. He continued to lick, biting at the side of his cone, carefully eating around the edge to get to the ice cream. He nibbled around the rim, turning it in a circle and making sure he’d eaten the cone down into a uniform shape before dragging his long tongue across the newly exposed globs of ice cream.

Just when Keith felt certain that nothing Shiro could do could be worse, Shiro did something that Keith knew would be burned into his mind for all of time. Shiro’s cone was nearly gone, the small bit that was left dwarfed in Shiro’s massive hand. Then he positioned it between two fingers and lifted it up, tilting his head back and lowering the pointed edge into his mouth. Keith forgot how to fucking breathe as Shiro’s pearly white teeth closed around the tip and bit down hard. He chewed slowly then curled his pretty, sticky lips around the hollow at the bottom and began to suck.

Every bit of blood left in Keith’s body went straight south. His dick strained against the fabric of his bright red basketball shorts, so hard it almost hurt. If Shiro looked at his lap, there would be no way to disguise how turned on he was. Keith felt fucking _crazy_. He’d never felt like this about anyone. Keith was no stranger to arousal or crushes, but nothing Keith had felt in his entire life compared to the way he felt about Shiro. He was constantly torn between his heart fluttering because Shiro was as sweet as a fucking puppy, and wanting to shove Shiro back against the wall and climb him like a goddamn fucking tree because he was so sexy. It didn’t make sense. Shiro was the kind of guy who laughed at his own bad jokes, spent his Saturday nights drinking wine and watching bad reality TV with Allura, and apparently set up elaborate dates for his boyfriend. He was a big, cheesy fucking dork. He was also the kind of man who took no shit, who knew his own worth, and who could hold Keith against the wall with one hand and fuck him so good Keith forgot how to walk.

Shiro was an anomaly, and Keith loved him so fucking much it was hard to breathe. He also really wanted to fuck him. Or suck him. Or be sucked. Keith wasn’t particular. So long as it involved Shiro and nakedness, Keith would be happy with just about anything.

Some of his thoughts must have shown on his face because Shiro let the last small bit of his cone pop from his mouth as he licked his lips and turned his focus on Keith. 

“You okay, baby?”

Keith tried to smile, but it definitely felt like more of a grimace. “Fine.”

Shiro’s eyebrows furrowed, lips turning down in an adorable little frown. “What’s wrong?”

Keith wasn’t sure if he wanted to laugh or cry. Of course Shiro saw right through him. Neither of them were good liars to begin with, but especially not with each other. Keith always saw right through Shiro’s bullshit and vice versa.

“I’ve uh, never seen you eat an ice cream cone before,” Keith choked out.

Shiro’s nose wrinkled in confusion as he looked at that remained of his cone. “You’ve seen me eat ice cream.”

“Yeah, with a spoon,” Keith challenged. Not that having seen that was much better. Shiro always sucked on the spoon for far too long as he tried to get off every drop of caramel or chocolate sauce when he made a sundae. His eyes would flutter shut as he made tiny sounds of pleasure and, fuck, either Keith had an ice cream kink he wasn’t aware of or, well—Keith felt like maybe he just had a Shiro kink.

Shiro in his platform boots and leather jacket, dangerous and dark and so fucking hot. Shiro the morning after a night out in his stupidly thin sweats with the hole in one knee, his hair all over the place and his eyeliner still smudged. Shiro dressed to the nines to impress a client, or being fucked in Keith’s jersey on his new couch. God, Keith was pretty sure he’d even got a hard-on once from watching Shiro smell his own pits to see if he needed a shower. It was probably about time that Keith admitted Shiro could be wearing a pillowcase or talking dirty and Keith would waver between adoration and arousal.

“Baby,” Shiro said again, the spread of his thighs widening imperceptibly as he angled his body towards Keith. 

Keith couldn’t drag his eyes away from the way the material of Shiro’s black shorts as they clung to the corded muscles of his thick thighs when he scooted towards the edge of his chair. Shiro rested his elbows on his knees and leaned forward, the hem of his shorts sliding up enough that Keith glimpsed tight black boxer briefs. He knew exactly what Shiro looked like in nothing but those briefs—the waistband snug against his tiny waist and the cotton spandex blend stretched so tightly around the girth of his massive thighs and generous dick it looked painted on. Keith swallowed audibly. 

Yeah, maybe he just had a _Shiro_ kink.

“You know you can tell me anything right,” Shiro told him.

Keith knew that wasn’t an empty statement but the truth. He knew without a shred of doubt that nothing he told Shiro would be too much. Keith wasn’t scared of Shiro, he was scared of himself—of the intensity of his desire for Shiro.

“It’s a lot,” Keith finally conceded. He waved a hand in the general direction of Shiro’s last bite of ice cream cone and wished for the earth to swallow him whole.

“A lot of—_oh_,” Shiro breathed with dawning awareness. A pretty pink flush spread across the bridge of his nose—color settling high on his cheekbones. There was something almost shy in the way he blinked at Keith—equal parts surprise and pleasure mixing in the slow catlike smile that spread across his face. 

“Yeah, so yeah. Now you know,” Keith mumbled, rubbing his left hand across his shorts and grimacing as more of his ice cream dripped down onto his other knee.

“You like watching me, sweetheart?” Shiro asked, purposely opening his mouth and clacking his tongue ring between his teeth. It sent a chill down Keith’s spine, the absolute fucking tease. Shiro knew exactly what he was doing now.

Keith huffed, leaning back against the back of his chair. He couldn’t cross his arms since he was still holding the miserable and sticky evidence of his own distraction. He settled for frowning at Shiro in what was supposed to be menacing, but somehow made Shiro chuckle. Keith thought maybe he was losing his edge or something.

“I like when you watch me,” Shiro confessed. He mimicked Keith’s pose and leaned back into his chair, widening his stance and arching his hips just so. Keith didn’t miss the way pull of Shiro’s shorts in his crotch and his own dick ached. Fuck.

“You wanna watch me, baby?” 

Before Keith could answer, Shiro did the most obscene thing Keith had ever seen and placed his hand on his chest—dead center between his pecs. It made the material of his loose tank top shift, one of his perky pink nipples almost visible as he dragged his hand down his chest to rest above his dick. Shiro sucked his bottom lip into his mouth and whimpered as he palmed himself into hardness. All it took was a few seconds of rubbing and moaning and the dick print became visible, his substantial cock straining at his stupidly thin shorts.

_Fuck._

“You like that?” Shiro asked, as if he wasn’t perfectly aware that Keith did like it very much.

“Yes,” Keith choked out. His previous embarrassment was giving way to raging arousal now, and the only stopping him from climbing Shiro like a goddamn tree was the desire to see what he might do next. That and the fact that if either of Shiro's next door neighbors came onto their own patios they'd get an eyeful.

Shiro’s lips curled up in a self satisfied smile. “Good.”

Then Shiro locked his eyes on Keith’s as he rucked up the hem of his tank top to show off his impossibly flat stomach and let his fingertips dance down to the waistband of his shorts. It took Keith a moment to realize the strangled noise he’d heard came from him. If Shiro noticed he said nothing, maintaining eye contact as he spread his fingers wide, pressed his palm flush against his dark treasure trail, and moved his hand down. The tips of his fingers disappeared beneath his shorts and Keith’s brain short-circuited.

Shiro. Keith needed to touch Shiro. Suddenly it didn't matter that someone might see what they were doing. All that matter was getting his hands or mouth on his sexy as fuck boyfriend.

Uncaring if he made a mess, Keith dropped what was left of his melted his ice cream to the floor, pointedly ignoring the way the melted ice cream splattered across his feet and the floor. Apparently Shiro had noticed as well, since his hand stilled. It was exactly the opportunity Keith needed. If Shiro was going to tease, then Keith could damn well tease back.

Without a word, Keith practically leapt from his chair and dropped to his knees. It only occurred to him as he splashed down into the kiddie pool that maybe he should’ve thought his actions through more. Even with the summer heat threatening to turn Keith into an actual tomato, he’d been unprepared for the ice cold chill of the water as it soaked his shorts. Shiro’s eyes widened in surprise but Keith was so fucking turned on he couldn’t even find it in himself to feel self satisfied.

“What are you doing baby?” Shiro breathed, the hitch in his breathing noticeable.

It was Keith’s turn to smile. “What you know you wanted me to do.”

Shiro’s eyebrows rose and his mouth fell into an O of surprise as Keith grabbed Shiro’s wrist, pushed it away from his dick, and turned his eyes up to Shiro’s face. “Your turn to watch.”

“Okay,” Shiro breathed, spreading his legs wider to make more room for Keith. He placed his hands on the arms of his chair wand waited. That Keith could feel satisfied about. He loved how well Shiro listened.

“Good boy,” Keith praised. 

Shiro grunted, biting down hard on his bottom lip, but he didn’t move. He really was such a good boy. At least for Keith. Unless Keith wanted him to be naughty, and then he was that too. Keith didn’t think he’d ever get over the way Shiro could so easily go from commanding to submitting.

“Such a good boy,” Keith repeated. Shiro’s fingers dug into the arms of the chair as he inhaled sharply.

Bracing his hands on Shiro’s thighs, he made sure to keep his eyes on Shiro as he rubbed his cheek along the clothed hardness of Shiro’s dick.  
“Jesus, baby.”

Keith hummed, rubbing his face back and forth. Shiro was so turned on Keith could smell his arousal, and it made his own dick twitch. He didn’t think he would ever get over the heady way it made him feel to see the way Shiro responded to him. He’d spent so long wanting him, so long loving him, and now Shiro was his and Keith didn’t plan on ever taking him for granted.

Keith let his mouth fall open, dragging his bottom lip across Shiro’s dick. Out of the corner of his eye he could see Shiro’s knuckles turning white but still he didn’t move. Keith could imagine how badly Shiro probably wanted to rock his hips up to get his dick against Keith’s mouth, or the way he wanted to touch Keith’s hair. Shiro loved Keith’s hair and fuck, Keith loved that he loved it.

Keith rocked forward on his knees, his hat butting against Shiro’s stomach as he mouthed at Shiro’s dick, noisier and less controlled this time. He knew he was meant to be teasing but he couldn’t stop if he tried, sucking hard on the side of Shiro’s dick through the cotton of his shorts. 

Shiro keened, his thighs twitching beneath Keith’s hold. “Baby.”

Encouraged Keith continued, his drool making a mess of Shiro’s shorts as he mouthed and sucked his way down the hard length until he was sure he’d reached the tip. Keith splayed his hands wide and stroked along the insides of Shiro’s thighs as he hollowed his cheeks and closed his lips around the end of Shiro’s dick and sucked hard, the material going wet in his mouth, though whether it was more to Keith’s saliva or Shiro’s pre-come, Keith didn’t know or care. All he knew was that Shiro was quivering beneath him, and Keith had never been more turned on in his entire fucking life.

“Baby. Baby, please.”

Keith blinked, the tip of Shiro’s dick falling from his mouth. Keith eyed the large wet spot for several seconds before turning his attention back on Shiro. “Please, what?”

“I wanna touch you so bad. Let me touch you.” He sounded so desperate Keith wasn’t sure what ached more, his heart or his dick.

“I’m wet,” Keith said stupidly, all coherence knocked from him at the sight of Shiro’s needy, lust blown eyes.

Shiro barked out a laugh. “I really, really don’t fucking care.”

“Uh, okay,” Keith said, unsure why the no touching had seemed like such a brilliant idea a few minutes before. He’d meant to get Shiro back for driving him fucking crazy, but it occurred to him that no touching was really disadvantageous for both of them. Keith wanted Shiro’s big hands on him. Now.

Shiro didn’t wait to be told twice, the thumb of his prosthetic immediately hooking in the hole of Keith’s backward cap and shoving it off. It plopped into the kiddie pool beside Keith with a small splash. It was his favorite hat and in that moment Shiro could have thrown it off his fifteenth floor balcony and Keith wouldn’t have cared as long as Shiro followed through and touched him.

“So gorgeous,” Shiro murmured, his thumb stroking across Keith’s cheek before sliding up and fisting into Keith’s hair. Keith groaned as Shiro’s strong fingers dug into his scalp and he dropped his face into Shiro’s lap again and mouthed at Shiro’s dick again. The only difference was the way Shiro cradled his head urging him to do press down a little harder. 

Keith was positive he probably resembled a sweaty tomato. His face was flushed from the heat, the top of his head was sweaty, and his hair was clinging to the back of his neck and standing up funny on top now that his hat was off. Except by some unknown miracle, Shiro was looking at him like he was something beautiful and not something the cat dragged in. He thanked his lucky stars for whatever he’d done in a past life to get lucky enough to have someone like Shiro.

Loudly he hummed with pleasure, perfectly aware of how much it got Shiro going when Keith was noisy. As expected, Shiro’s fingers tightened in his hair and Shiro let out his own sound of appreciation. The tug against his scalp was hard—just this side of painful pleasure—and Keith was assaulted by a rush of arousal. Every time he thought he couldn’t be more turned on he was proved wrong. 

The noise Keith made next was embarrassingly loud and guttural as he moaned against the base of Shiro’s cock, feeling absolutely ridiculous but urged on by the way Shiro’s legs quivered and his breathing quickened. Keith wasn’t even sure what the fuck he was doing—nosing at Shiro’s dick like a goddamn eager puppy—but whatever it was, Shiro was apparently really into it.

It was good. So good. But it wasn’t enough.

Abruptly Keith pulled back, Shiro’s fingers falling from his hair. Shiro’s lips turned down in a frown. “What—”

“Budge over,” Keith instructed, finally doing what he’d been dying to do for the better part of the last hour, and climbed up Shiro’s body to settle himself in Shiro’s lap, ignoring the way the water sploshed around his feet and the way it dripped off his soaking wet shorts, getting Shiro and his chair equally wet.

“Oh,” Shiro said with a soft laugh, settling his big hands on Keith’s ass and squeezing. “Oh, this is good.”

Keith grinned, delighting in the way Shiro opened up to him so easily. Shiro trusted him even if he didn’t know exactly what Keith had in mind. Keith liked that. He liked it a lot. 

Bracing his hands against the back of Shiro’s chair on either side of Shiro’s neck, Keith ducked his head until his lips were hovering just an inch or so from Shiro’s. Close enough that if he darted his tongue out he could probably still taste the sticky sweetness on Shiro’s pretty lips. Then he decided there was no reason for him not to, so instead of a kiss he simply let his tongue peek out of his own mouth as he dragged it along Shiro’s bottom lip, pulling it down to reveal the pale pink skin.

Shiro’s groan was positively dirty, his hands digging into Keith’s ass as he rolled his hips up, dragging their clothed dicks together. It was Keith’s turn to moan at that, a gutteral sound that Shiro swallowed up greedily, slamming his lips against Keith’s and urging Keith to rock his hips again.

Whatever ideas Keith had entertained before disappeared, and the only cognizant thought in his brain was the way it felt to have his dick rubbing against Shiro’s. If the little grunts of pleasure were any indication, Shiro seemed to feel the same. It didn’t matter that it was nearly one hundred degrees and doing anything to increase their body temperature was probably a bad idea, especially when the inside of Shiro’s apartment was a crisp seventy-three degrees. It didn’t matter that Keith’s basketball shorts were soaking wet and he was dripping all over the place. It didn’t matter that they were both grown men and fully capable of actually getting their dicks out.

All that mattered was the pleasure shooting up Keith’s spine as he rutted against Shiro. The way his own thighs trembled as he bucked down as hard and fast as he could, urged on by Shiro’s hands on his ass.

He’d never felt so desperate—chest heaving and hands shaking as he rocked his hips down and rutted against Shiro like a fifteen-year-old virgin. Not even the first time he and Shiro had kissed had made him feel this off-kilter. Hell, not even the first time he’d seen Shiro naked and dropped to his knees because the idea of living one more second without that massive dick in his mouth had been unthinkable, compared to the way he felt right now. Keith felt fucking crazy—his mind driven to distraction by lust. He didn’t know what he wanted more, to come or to make Shiro come first. All he knew was that it was imperative their dicks kept rubbing together.

Back in those early days when Keith hadn’t been sure how long things would last, he’d been desperate to touch Shiro, afraid every time might be the last. But as things progressed, and it became obvious that Shiro was as all in as Keith was, he’d assumed the insatiable desire he felt every time he looked at Shiro would die down.

It didn’t. Not ever.

If anything, it only seemed to be growing. Every single thing he learned about Shiro stoked the flames of his arousal. He liked that Shiro spoiled his cats and stuck his tongue out between his lips when he did the crossword in the Sunday paper. He liked that Shiro sometimes wore eyeliner to bed and woke up looking like a goddamn rockstar. He liked the way Shiro’s voice pitched low when he was happy and the sounds he made when he was aroused. He liked every single thing about Shiro. He even liked himself better when he was around Shiro. It was easier to be himself around him, easier to let his flaws out without fear of censoring himself, and easier to dream big knowing he had someone there to support him.

Everything was better with Shiro. Including, apparently, humping Shiro’s lap as he chased an orgasm.

“Come on, baby,” Shiro whispered in between kisses, his voice deceptively soft for a man currently digging his finger into the crease of Keith’s ass through his too-thin shorts and moaning like a porn star.

“Come on what?” Keith bit out. He was proud of himself for forming a full sentence when he felt like he might pass out, though whether that would be from heat stroke or having Shiro beneath him he wasn’t sure. Possibly both.

“Come,” Shiro repeated, nipping at Keith’s bottom lip. “Come for me, sweetheart.”

Keith made a choking noise as Shiro slipped his tongue into Keith’s mouth, dragging the metal of his tongue ring cool and hard against Keith’s tongue. Filthy. It was filthy. There was no other word to describe the way Shiro was licking into his mouth and moaning as if Keith were the sexiest person alive. Shiro kissed him hard and messy, kissed him in a way that made Keith dig his nails into the whicker on the chair as he let out a low scream and came in his pants.

Throughout it all, Shiro continued his assault of Keith’s mouth, the tongue ring clanging against Keith’s teeth as the tip of his tongue dragged across the roof of Keith’s mouth. It was all Keith could do not to scream again as Shiro took him apart, mouth and hands everywhere as Keith came down, still rolling his hips against Shiro until his dick was so sensitive it almost hurt.

Letting out a soft grunt, Keith pulled out of the kiss to catch his breath, resting his forehead against Shiro’s. “Fuck you.”

Shiro’s amusement was clear, his body shaking beneath Keith as he laughed. “Maybe if you’re a good boy.”

Keith snorted. “I’m never a good boy.”

Shiro sucked in a breath, nosing against Keith’s cheek. “Mmm, that’s true. Maybe I can be your good boy then. You wanna fuck me, baby. Want me to be good for you?”

By some impossible feet, Keith’s oversensitive and empty dick twitched. Shiro was a menace. An actual fucking menace.

“You like being my good boy, don’t you?” Keith asked, too relaxed to feel unsure about broaching the subject. It wasn’t as if he hadn’t used the words before, multiple times. Hell, just a few minutes ago, in fact. But they’d been just that, words. Keith wanted more. God, he wanted so much more. He’d lost track of the number of times he’d daydreamed about taking it further, about asking just how good Shiro wanted to be, or why he liked being good for Keith. He’d been dying to ask Shiro if it was more than just a bit of a teasing fun.

Shiro hummed, stroking his palm up and down Keith’s back. “Yeah.”

“You like it a lot?” Keith asked, rubbing his nose against Shiro’s shoulder then mouthing his way to the hollow at his collarbone where his tank top had slipped off to the side. “Like a lot?”

Shiro’s hand paused on its way under the hem of Keith’s tank top, his touch light against Keith’s flushed skin.

“I, uh, yes,” Shiro answered. He sounded like he wasn’t sure if it was an actual answer or a question. Keith didn’t need to see his face to detect the hint of insecurity. Shiro had never said as much, but Keith had the distinct impression at least one person in Shiro’s past had made him ashamed of the things he liked, and despite his outward physical appearance and easygoing personality, Shiro wasn’t always as confident as the world assumed him to be.

“I like it too,” Keith confessed, wanting to assuage Shiro’s worry quickly. “I like when you’re good for me. It’s so hot.”

“Yeah?” Shiro whispered, his fingers resuming their travels up Keith’s spine.

“So hot,” Keith repeated, nipping at the side of Shiro’s throat. Shiro groaned, baring his throat and arching, his own erection still hard as a rock and digging into Keith’s thigh. “Like now. You wanna come so bad don’t you. But you wanted me to come first. You take such good care of me don’t you?”

“_Baby_.”

“Yeah, yeah that’s right. I’m your baby and you take care of me don’t you. You always do. You work so hard all the time taking care of everyone else because you’re so good. But you could let me take care of you for once, yeah?”

The sound that tore from Shiro was a noise that bypassed Keith’s dick and went straight to his heart. Shiro’s left hand dug into his thigh and his fingers spread across Keith’s bare skin as his mouth fell open in a silent plea. 

“Yeah. That’s it, Shiro. It’s okay to want this. I want this it too.” He scooted his ass down closer to Shiro’s knees as he licked across the sharp angle of his collar bone before he spoke again. When he did, his fingers were toying with the drawstring on Shiro’s shorts. “You wanna be my good boy, don’t you?”

Keith lifted his head in time to watch as Shiro nodded, his eyes heavy-lidded and his chest heaving. He looked so turned on, and the knowledge that it was all because of Keith was as heady as it was humbling. 

“You must be so tired,” Keith started, stroking the tips of his fingers down Shiro’s stomach, the muscles fluttering. “You’ve been working overtime lately. Working so hard. I wasn’t sure why but now I know. You were working for me, weren’t you?”

Shiro blinked once before he licked his lips. “You deserve everything, baby.”

Keith cupped the side Shiro’s face, his thumb gently stroking over the rise of his cheekbone. “So do you. But you never ask for anything in return. You work so hard and you give and give and you never take. It’s exhausting, isn't it?”

Shiro opened his mouth then paused as if thinking hard about how he wanted to answer. “_Yes_.”

Keith’s stomach flipped. He hadn’t actually thought Shiro would agree even if they both knew it was the truth. Shiro was the king of working too hard and always insisting he was fine. Yet here he was admitting that maybe he was a little less than fine, and Keith was overcome.

“Oh, you are a good boy. I’m so proud of you for telling me the truth. Feels good to let it out doesn’t it?” Keith asked. He moved his hand from Shiro’s face to his lap, giving his still clothed erection a few strokes. Not enough to give Shiro any real satisfaction but enough that he could feel it. 

Shiro nodded his agreement and Keith felt emboldened. 

“You always put me first, always take such good care of me. This time, it’s my turn. I wanna take care of you,” Keith told him. As he spoke he reached up and slid his finger into the hair tie holding up Shiro’s hair in a messy bun, giving it a few short but firm tugs until it came out. Shiro’s long locks fell down, framing his chiseled jaw and pooling around his shoulders. Keith loved when Shiro let his hair down, literally and figuratively.

“Fuck, you’ve so handsome,” Keith whispered, slipping his fingers into the silky strands.

Shiro, ever the talker, appeared lost for words and settled for letting out a sigh of pleasure as Keith continued to stroke his fingers through Shiro’s hair. 

“That’s it, Shiro. Close your eyes and relax. It’s my turn to make you feel good.”

“You always do,” Shiro insisted, butting his forehead against Keith’s hand and kissing the inside of his wrist.

Keith smiled. “Fine. Then extra good. But that means you have to do what I say. Even if I tell you no touching again. Think you can do that?”

Shiro nodded, dropping his hands to the arms of the chair.

“Good boy,” Keith praised, delighting in the way Shiro’s cheeks bloomed with color. It was possibly from the heat, but Keith liked to believe it was because of his words. “Now lift your hips up.”

Shiro obeyed, easily thrusting his hips up with Keith still sort of in his lap. It was such a fucking turn on how strong Shiro was, and Keith had to mentally chastise his own dick for it’s half-hearted attempts at getting hard already. This was supposed to be for Shiro. Moving quickly, Keith pulled on Shiro’s waistband and tugged it halfway down his ass until his dick sprang free.

Keith’s dick began to harden with appreciation, and he gave up trying not to be aroused by every single thing about Shiro. It was a lost cause. 

“Fuck, look at you. You’re so hard for me. You want it so bad, don’t you?” Keith said as Shiro dropped his ass back onto the chair.

“I always want you, baby,” Shiro said, looking like it was taking all his self-control not to move.

“Yeah well,” Keith choked, “the feeling is mutual, big boy.” 

Keith didn’t give Shiro a chance to say anything else before he wrapped his hand around Shiro’s dick, giving it a firm squeeze and stroking. Shiro’s eyes finally fluttered shut on a moan as he let his head thunk back against his chair.

“That’s it, let me do this for you. You don’t need to do anything except feel good. Can you do that for me?”

“Yes,” Shiro uttered, voice barely above a whisper.

“Good,” Keith affirmed. “Good boy.”

After that, it became a haze of praise and moans. Keith was barely even cognizant of what he was saying, the endearments falling from his lips easily as he watched Shiro’s dick slide in and out of the circle of his hand. The words were meant to be for Shiro, but Keith couldn’t deny the way it affected him to say it, to know that a man as big and strong as Shiro was choosing to be good for Keith and Keith alone. 

It barely took any time at all before Shiro was close to coming—his thighs shaking and his black nails digging into the arms of his chair. Keith dragged his thumb across the tip of Shiro’s dick, smearing the pre-come before speeding up his strokes. He was close. So close.

Going for the kill, Keith moved his other hand down behind Shiro’s balls and teased his finger along the crease of Shiro’s ass. Shiro whimpered, and it was all the warning Keith got before his hand and shirt were covered in Shiro’s warm release. 

“Good boy,” Keith praised, continuing to stroke Shiro through his orgasm.

“Jesus Christ, baby,” Shiro grunted, throwing an arm over his face. 

“So you, uh...you liked it?” Keith asked, suddenly bashful about the myriad of things he’d just said. He and Shiro were no strangers to sex, or even kinky sex, but that had been something else entirely. He wasn’t really sure what to do with the residual feelings of having had so much power over Shiro, of knowing that Shiro probably would’ve done anything he asked. He liked it more than he could have ever expected. He liked knowing that of all the people in the world, Keith was the only person Shiro trusted to let go with—he trusted Keith to take care of him and make him feel good.

Shiro grunted, peeking at Keith from beneath his forearm. “_Liked_ is a bit of an understatement.”

Keith ducked his head and grinned. He’d felt pretty certain Shiro had liked it, more than liked it really, if his reactions had been any indication, but hearing him say so soothed the frayed edges of Keith’s nerves.

“Come here,” Shiro murmured, flinging his arm out to wrap around Keith’s waist, pulling him flush against Shiro’s chest. Keith went easily, pillowing his head on Shiro’s chest and listening to the strong, steady thrum of Shiro’s heart beating as Shiro pressed a kiss to the top of his head.

“We’re messy,” Keith observed, though truthfully he didn’t really mind being wet or sticky. Not when sex with Shiro was so much fucking fun.

“Yeah,” Shiro agreed, hand grazing down the line of his spine to rest on his hip. “But we could get even messier.”

“What exactly did you have in mind?” Keith lifted his head to peer at Shiro, unable to read his expression.

“Well, I noticed you didn’t finish you ice cream,” Shiro began, nodding his head toward Keith’s crushed and melted cone on the floor. Keith had the decency to blush. “We could take the rest of the ice cream inside. To, uh, my bed that is. I thought, well—”

“Thought we could what?” Keith urged, desperate to know what might be making Shiro stutter.

“I thought maybe you might want to, uh...eat the ice cream. Off me. Show me just what kind of a bad boy you really are.” 

All the blood rushed straight to Keith’s dick, which was definitely hard again. Fuck.

“Yes. Yes, absolutely. One hundred and ten percent yes.”

Shiro bit the inside of his cheek and grinned. “Now?”

“Now, definitely.”

“Okay. Good.” Shiro slid his hands under Keith’s ass and, without warning, rose into a standing position taking Keith with him. Keith nearly bit off the end of his tongue.

“I have an idea,” Keith said, wrapping his arms and legs securely around Shiro, who didn’t seemed bothered by his shorts still bunched up under his ass as he walked or his dick hanging out. He looked pretty fucking pleased with himself actually, not that Keith could blame him. The sentiment was universal. 

“Oh yeah?”

Yeah,” Keith echoed, playfully nipping at Shiro’s ear as he yanked open the sliding glass door and carried them inside, the cold air soothing his overheated body. “But we’re gonna need your can of whipped cream.”

“God baby, you’re going to kill me,” Shiro groaned.

“Unlikely. We both know you can handle anything I’ve got,” Keith challenged. Shiro’s laughter echoed through the living room and all the way to the kitchen where he not only got the ice cream and whipped cream but the rest of his jar of chocolate sauce too.

This was going to be so fun.

**Author's Note:**

> Come say hi on [Twitter](https://twitter.com/goldentruth813) :)


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